


Take Me Out Tonight

by javajunkie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance, olicity - Freeform, olicity au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: Felicity falls for her boxing instructor.  OLICITY AU.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 259
Kudos: 421





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am having an insane number of ideas lately and this is one of them! Not sure how much more I'll add to this, but I had a lot of fun writhing this part!

In times of stress, Felicity usually turned to her two favorite vices – wine and romantic comedies. However, with mounting work deadlines and an ex-boyfriend that she couldn’t quite shake, the usual suspects weren’t working. She couldn’t sleep and on the odd nights she actually fell asleep before midnight ,she woke up constantly, unable to get settled into her mattress. One particularly prickly morning, her roommate, Sara, recommended that she come with her to her boxing class.

“I don’t really think I’m the boxing type,” Felicity said.

“It’s not a type,” Sara said. “It’s a skill. Besides, it’s really great for letting off some steam. And, if you need to do anything right now, it’s that.”

“What if I have no boxing skills?”

“You don’t need them,” Sara said, walking past her into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. “That’s what the class is for.”

“Okay, what if I have _negative_ skills.”

Sara laughed. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen you move and you have coordination, which means as a baseline, you won’t be horrible. Also, my friend Oliver teaches the class and he’s super patient.”

“Oliver,” Felicity said, trying to figure out why the name sounded familiar. “Hey, isn’t that the guy you were sleeping with last year?”

Sara shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“I will never understand casual sex.”

“That’s another good way to blow off some steam,” Sara said. “But, don’t worry, I know my audience. Come with me to the class tonight. I promise you’ll have a good time!”

“Fine,” Felicity relented. “But, when I am as bad as I warned you I will be – no mocking.”

Sara smirked. “I promise to keep any potential mocking at bay.”

* * *

That evening, Felicity accompanied Sara to the boxing studio which, frankly, already seemed too hardcore for her. Everyone else seemed cool and powerful with their monochromatic exercise gear and jacked arms. Felicity felt acutely out of place in her powder pink shirt and teal leggings, and as they picked a spot in the studio, Felicity said, “Why did you tell me color isn’t a thing here?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I look like Jojo Siwa compared to the rest of them,” Felicity said, pulling at her shirt.

Sara snorted. “I think you look fine. You look like you. Oh hey, there’s Oliver.”

Sara waved over her friend and Felicity felt her heartrate quicken. She had met Oliver a few times before at parties, but they never really had any sort of extended interaction. He was dressed more casually than she’d seen him before in a pair of black workout shorts and a dark green sleeveless shirt. He scratched his shoulder and she watched the muscles in his arm ripple.

“Oliver, you remember Felicity, right?” Sara said.

“Yeah, nice to see you again,” Oliver said.

“You too,” Felicity said, rocking on her heels. “Nice place you have here. It’s very…” she searched for the right word and settled on the illuminating, “boxing-ey”

He grinned slightly. “Thanks.”

“This is Felicity’s first class, so go easy on her,” Sara said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Oliver said. He looked to Felicity and said, “If you’re ever lost, you can look to Sara for form. She could practically teach this class.”

Oliver walked off to talk to some of the other clients, and Felicity asked in a low voice, “Why were you two only casually involved, again?”

“Total commitment-phobe,” Sara said. She stretched her arms overhead, arching her back. “Besides, you know I don’t like being held down.”

Felicity thought to herself that being held down by Oliver wouldn’t be too bad, and she immediately flushed. Thankfully, before Sara could notice, Oliver stepped to the front of the room and said, “Alright everyone, let’s get started!”

He held a small remote and Felicity watched him press a button a few times before music started, the volume reaching an almost deafening volume as he bellowed, “Let’s start with some jumping jacks. 45 seconds. Let’s go, guys!”

Felicity hadn’t done a jumping jack probably since high school, but it was easy enough to follow, and then there were high knees and butt-kickers. None of them particularly pleasant, but also largely do-able. That is until Oliver yelled for everyone to transition to burpees. Around Felicity, everyone starting jumping up and down like ridiculously agile whack-a-moles. Sara was particularly swift, popping down and back up at least twice for each of Felicity’s burpees. Felicity had a particularly hard time coming back up after her fourth or fifth, and she heard Oliver say, “If any of you are struggling with the burpees, you can just do squats here.”

The modification was clearly for her, as she was the only one struggling with the burpees, and she stubbornly pushed through, gasping for air and already dripping sweat by the time they were finished.

“Alright, that’s it for the warm-up,” Oliver said. “Now the real fun begins.”

Felicity wanted very much to throw something at him.

They transitioned into sets of punches, Felicity’s muscles already feeling sore from the warm-up, but she found herself enjoying the snap of her fists as she jabbed and crossed. She even started getting into it a little, imaging all the people who pissed her off recently. Her ex-boyfriend. The grocery store clerk who tried to overcharge her on produce. The President of the United States. She was so invested, that she didn’t notice Oliver next to her until he said, “Great job, Felicity, but remember to turn your hips on the cross.”

“What?”

“Turn your hips,” he repeated, and then he took a hold of her hips, showing her what he meant. “Like that.”

Felicity swallowed hard and said, “Like that. Got it.”

He gave her a congenial grin and barked out the next combo, heading to the front to demo the moves. Felicity noticed Sara smirking beside her, and she said, “Shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Sara said.

“Next, I want you to just punch straight as fast as you can for the next minute,” Oliver said. “I want you going as hard as you can, okay? On the count of three. One, two, three!”

Felicity set into the rhythm of the punches, going as fast as she could without accidentally hitting herself in the face. Oliver called out that there were 45 seconds left. Then 30. At the last 15, she pushed herself as far as she could, her shoulders burning, and then Oliver walked past her and said, “Good work, Felicity.”

Her thoughts drifted to his hands on her hips and with the momentary lack of focus and flying fists, one of her fists flew directly into her face. Felicity wouldn’t have thought that she had enough upper body strength to injure herself, but the blood that poured from her nose said otherwise.

“Oh my God,” Felicity said, covering her nose. She rushed out of the room with Sara on her heels. She vaguely heard Oliver say, “Work on that first combo again. I’ll be right back.”

“This is so embarrassing,” Felicity cried, crouching in a corner with Sara.

“Let me see it,” Sara said, coaxing Felicity to face her. “Come on, just let me take a look.” Felicity reluctantly showed her face and Sara said, “Yeah, you hit yourself just right for it to bleed. It’s a good sign it’s already stopped, though.”

Oliver joined them and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Well, besides being mortified, yeah, I think I’m fine.”

“I can get you some ice,” Oliver offered. “Punching injuries actually aren’t that uncommon here, so we have some ready.”

Felicity would wager that most of those injuries didn’t include the person accidentally punching _themselves_ , and she shook her head and said, “I think I just want to go home. Nurse my wounds – and ego – in private.”

Oliver smiled slightly and told Sara, “Make sure she ices it at home.”

“I will.”

Oliver looked at Felicity and said, “Well, I’m sorry today took a turn. I hope to see you here again.”

“That will almost certainly not happen,” Felicity said. “But thanks.”

Oliver smiled a bit and said, “Well, I better…”

“Yes, go teach your class. Sorry again.”

“No apology necessary,” he said, touching her arm briefly before jogging back to the class area. She heard him announce the next combo and then the music got louder. Sara put her arm around Felicity and said, “He liked you.”

“I interrupted his class by punching myself in the face.”

“And you handled it very well,” Sara said. “I think you should come back with me next week.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Felicity said. “But, nice try.”


	2. Chapter 2

Felicity waited for the elevator at her office, daring an experimental sip of her coffee. She just picked it up at the donut shop in her office building, and logic told her that it would be too hot to drink. But, she needed the caffeine. Badly. Sure enough, the hot liquid scorched her tongue and she pulled back immediately, wincing.

“Not cool coffee,” Felicity said. “Although, to be fair, the cup did warn me you could be hot.”

It looked like any caffeine was going to have to wait, which was remarkably cruel considering the night she had. Unlike most nights, she had actually fallen asleep relatively easily, but then she woke up around 3:00 and her body was wide awake until just before her 6:00 alarm. She had only gotten about twenty minutes in before Dolly Parton’s _9 to 5_ started blaring from her phone. And so, caffeine was a must that morning. As she went in for another try – her burned tongue not much of a deterrent – someone behind her said her name.

She knew that voice, but she couldn’t place it. When she turned around, she recognized its owner, and stammered, “Oliver. What are you doing here?”

She noticed that he was dressed in a suit and tie – a far cry from the mesh shorts and cutoffs she’d seen him in a few weeks prior.

“My company is taking over a few floors here,” he returned smoothly.

“The boxing gym is renting floors here?” she asked with confusion. This didn’t exactly seem like a building that would have several fitness floors. But, hey, who knew? Maybe it was going to be the new trend, like Peloton and poke bowls. 

“No, not the gym. My company, Queen Consolidated.”

Felicity stared at him. “You work for Queen Consolidated?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said, rubbing at his jaw. It was a weird way to say that, and as Felicity’s brain caught up with what was happening, she realized who she was actually talking with. Oliver Queen. CEO of Queen Consolidated.

“I thought you were a boxing instructor,” Felicity said, swallowing hard. 

“I technically am. But I only teach a few classes at the gym. It’s something to do in my time off.”

Felicity nodded blankly, thinking that of course a billionaire would teach boxing in his free time. Why not? She didn’t know what to say next, and thankfully, he made the decision for her by gesturing toward the donut shop bag she was holding and saying, “Their old-fashioned donuts are pretty amazing. I swear that place is half the reason I wanted office space here.”

“Everything there is good,” Felicity said. “Insider tip, they make about one batch of off-menu donuts each day. It’s always some weird flavor that ends up being amazing.”

Oliver grinned. “It sounds like you go there a lot.”

Felicity didn’t want to give him the image of her as the donut-girl, and said, “Just the normal amount.”

“Oliver,” a tall brunette said, joining them. “Showing up before ten? This has to be a new record for you.”

“You know me, Isabel. I like to keep people guessing.”

Isabel looked over at Felicity, eyes flickering over her bright purple dress and dangly earrings, and she asked Oliver, “Is this one of our new hires?”

“Oh, no, I’m not working for Queen Consolidated,” Felicity said quickly. “You guys actually turned me down. Not now, I mean. It was right out of college and I was 100% not qualified for really any sort of work, particularly a Fortune 500 company. But, I have a job now. A good job.”

Isabel paused before blandly returning, “So, you’re _not_ a new hire.”

“Felicity was in one of my boxing classes,” Oliver said. “And, apparently also works in this building.”

“20th floor,” Felicity said.

“Huh, how nice,” Isabel said slowly. She looked behind them at the elevators and said, “You two do realize that the button isn’t pressed, right?”

Felicity had not actually realized that. She must have been in such a pre-caffeine haze that she didn’t notice, and then Oliver suddenly appeared, confusing her brain further. She went to dart forward to press the button when Isabel smoothly reached over and pressed the button with a perfectly manicured finger. Felicity furtively glanced down at her own finger nails that were bitten down nearly to the quick.

An elevator came quickly and they all stepped on, a few more people streaming in behind them. Felicity was wedged in a back corner, and she was about to ask for someone to press her floor when Oliver reached forward and pressed the twentieth floor.

“Thanks,” she said.

A few last minute people squeezed their way into the elevator and Oliver stepped back, his body nearly pressed against hers in the small space. She could smell his cologne, an earthy mix of lemon and spice. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was all that she could smell. They stopped on the eighteenth floor and the person to her right began to edge his way out of the crowd, and in the shuffle, Oliver moved next to her. He tilted his head down to her and said, “Your coffee smells good.”

Without thinking she murmured, “So do you.”

“Excuse me?”

Thankfully, they reached her floor, and Felicity tossed him a quick goodbye before hurrying off the elevator, thankful for the several floors that would not be put between her and Oliver Queen. Still on the elevator, Isabel cast Oliver a look and he said, “What?”

“So do you,” she returned in a breathy voice, punctuating it with a sharp laugh.

* * *

That evening, Felicity came home and asked Sara, “Why did you never tell me that the Oliver you were sleeping with was Oliver _Queen_?”

Sara shrugged. “It didn’t come up.”

“So, you knew?” Felicity asked.

“Of course, I knew,” Sara said, taking a bite of her apple. “It’s not like it’s some big secret.”

“Well, I didn’t know,” Felicity said, turning on the oven so that it could preheat. She skirted over to the refrigerator and started to pull out food to make herself some dinner.

“You never asked.”

Felicity grabbed a cutting board and began to chop up some carrots as she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, next time I meet one of your friends, I’ll make sure to specifically ask if they’re a billionaire.”

Sara laughed. “So, how did you find out?”

“Turns out, his company just moved into my office building,” Felicity said. “We share an elevator bay.”

“Huh, what are the odds of that?” Sara said off-handedly, taking another bite of her apple. “Did you punch yourself in the face again around him?”

Felicity shot her a look. “I thought we promised never to speak of that.”

“No, you said that. I made no such promise.”

Felicity grabbed the beet on the counter and began to peel it. Her palms stained red, and she said, “He had this awful woman with him.”

“Really?”

Felicity nodded. “She must work with him or something. She’s the type with the perfect hair and perfect nails.”

Felicity knew it was her own insecurities speaking really more than anything about the other woman, but she continued with, “When we were waiting for the elevator, she asked if I was the new _hire_. Like, she couldn’t imagine him talking to me for any reason that wasn’t work related. She didn’t even ask my name.”

Sara read into what her roommate was saying and noted, “You have a lot of opinions for such a brief interaction.” 

“I guess I just didn’t like her.”

Felicity finished chopping the beet and put it with the carrots on a cookie sheet and slid it into the oven. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat next to Sara at the kitchen island.

“You know, if you’re going to be around Oliver more, you should know that there are always a lot of women with perfect hair and perfect nails around him.”

Felicity caught what she was saying, and immediately told her, “Don’t worry, I don’t have some crush on him. Besides, you two were together. It would be too weird.”

“I don’t care about that,” Sara said dismissively. “It was just sex. But, I know you. You’re a relationship girl and Oliver is definitely not that guy.”

“I promise you, I wasn’t thinking anything even remotely in that realm,” Felicity said. “Like, take out a map and I’ll show you how far my thoughts are from that.”

“Okay,” Sara said, smiling slightly. “So, let me get this straight. You _weren’t_ thinking that.”

“Definitely not. But, thank you for looking out for me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Felicity had never been particularly fond of online dating, but as she approached the big 3-0 and her dating life remained largely uneventful, Felicity put aside her dislike for the dating apps and signed up for one, Sara offering input as Felicity swiped through the options.

“Why not him?” Sara asked after Felicity swiped left on a consultant in Rogers Park.

“His first photo is him shirtless in bed. No thank you.”

“We have very different approaches to online dating.”

Felicity smirked, cycling through the next guy, and then the next, until she landed on a guy named Mike. He had the sort of face that was largely unremarkable, but he looked kind and had a Battlestar Galactica quote in his bio that amused Felicity and confused Sara.

He messaged her immediately after matching and they talked for a few days before setting up a dinner at a restaurant in River North. Felicity actually found herself excited to meet him as she got ready. She put on one of her favorite dresses – a slim red number that dipped low in the back – and she did her hair and makeup. On her way out, Sara did a low whistle and said, “You are definitely getting laid tonight.”

“It’s only the first date. I’m not even thinking about that.”

“The back of your dress says that you are.”

Felicity grinned slightly, not disclosing the fact that she also was wearing one of her nicer sets of lingerie, and said, “I’ll see you later.”

“At least make sure he buys you dinner first!” Sara called out.

It had been a good year since Felicity had been on a proper date, and that weighed heavily on her as she waited for her date at their table. What if she forgot how to do it? Her palms itched for a glass of wine, but she knew better than to add alcohol to her nerves. It would only turn her into a sort of neurotic Energizer bunny.

They were meeting at 7:00, and she nervously watched the time grow later. 7:05. 7:10. She sent him a quick message around 7:15, asking if everything was okay. But, there was no answer. She was just about to check the app again, when Oliver was suddenly next to the table.

“Hi Felicity.”

“Oliver, hi,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m grabbing dinner with a friend.”

She nodded along, rattled by her date not showing up, rattled by his appearance, and with all such rattling, she rambled, “You seem to be showing up everywhere these days. Or, maybe it’s like when you hear a name for the first time and you start seeing it everywhere. It’s not actually present more, you just notice it.” She paused and then added, “Not that I’m noticing you.”

“Well, I noticed you,” he said with a slight grin. “And, it’s not totally random me being here. I kind of own the restaurant.”

Of course, he did.

“How do you _kind of_ own a restaurant?” Felicity asked.

“I’m a part-owner with my business partner, Tommy.”

“CEO, restauranteer, boxing instructor…is there anything you don’t do?”

Oliver laughed and said, “I’m really more of an investor here. Tommy does all the heavy lifting. He’s actually who I’m meeting here tonight. What about you?”

“Who am I meeting?” Felicity asked and he nodded. “Well, it was supposed to be a date, but he’s nowhere to be found. Which, of course would happen the first time I put myself out there in a year.” Her shoulders slumped and she said, “And I needed tonight. Like, _really_ needed it.” Felicity realized a moment too late what she said, and who she said it to, and quickly added, “And by _it_ , I mean company.”

“Of course,” Oliver said smoothly, but she could tell by the slight upward tug of his mouth that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Anyway, it’s fine,” Felicity said, picking up her phone and swiping into the app. “I’m sure tomorrow I’ll get some lame excuse about how he fell asleep or something, and…” she trailed off when she saw that his account had gone inactive. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Is everything okay?” Oliver asked.

Felicity laughed humorlessly. “He deactivated his account.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. See for yourself,” Felicity said, showing him the screen.

Oliver leaned forward, studying the screen, and said, “What did you say his name was again?”

“Mike.”

Oliver looked up from the phone, clearly with something to say, and when he didn’t speak, Felicity asked, “What is it?”

“I went to high school with the guy in those photos and his name is definitely not Mike.”

Felicity stared at him. “Are you saying…”

“I think there’s a good chance you’ve been catfished.”

It only took a beat before Felicity was back on her phone, typing away furiously. When Oliver asked what she was doing, she told him, “He catfished the wrong girl.”

Oliver had no idea what she was doing so intently on her phone, but said, “Look, just forget about him. Why don’t you eat dinner with me and Tommy?”

Felicity didn’t answer, still a flurry of thumbs as she worked on her phone. She made a sort of clicking sound with her tongue, and then said, “There you are, ass hole.”

“Uh, what are you doing?” Oliver asked.

“I’m tracking down the IP address that was used to make Mike’s dating app account,” Felicity said without looking up from her screen.

“You can do all of that from your phone?” Oliver asked incredulously.

“Not with a regular phone,” Felicity admitted. “But I made some upgrades to mine.” She looked up suddenly and said, “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t share that with anyone else. Samsung probably wouldn’t look too kindly on me tinkering with their software.”

Oliver thought to himself that Felicity Smoak kept surprising him, and said, “Your secret is safe with me. So, what does that mean, tracking down the IP address?”

“It means I know where this douche canoe is.”

There were many things for Oliver to comment on with that statement, but before he could, Tommy joined them and said, “Oliver, who’s your friend?”

“Tommy, this is Felicity,” Oliver said. “Felicity, meet Tommy.”

“It’s great to meet you,” Felicity said, but Oliver could tell she was distracted. She stood up, wedging her purse under her arm. “Oliver, I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Oliver asked, following her.

“Home,” Felicity said quickly. Too quickly.

“You’re going to that guy’s house,” Oliver said flatly. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how stupid that is.” Felicity didn’t answer, and he sighed before he said, “Just wait here for a second.”

“What?”

“Just wait. Please.”

She nodded and Oliver went over to Tommy and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

Tommy looked over his shoulder at Felicity and said, “Can’t say I blame you.”

“It’s not like that,” Oliver said tightly. “She’s a friend. And, she’s about to do something pretty dumb-“

“What is she going to do?” Tommy asked curiously.

“Confront the person who just catfished her.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Say no more. I’m coming with.”

“What?”

“I can’t miss prime entertainment like this.” Tommy strode past him and said, “I’ll drive!”

* * *

The three of them sat parked in front of the house, the family visible through the front window eating dinner. Felicity glared at the husband, imaging him engaging in dozens of conversations with women across the city while his wife slept.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Oliver asked her. “You could just leave it alone.”

“If I was his wife, I’d want to know.”

Oliver frowned. “Okay then. Tommy-“

“Don’t even think of asking me to stay in the car,” Tommy said.

Oliver smiled tightly. “Well, then, lead the way, Felicity.”

She got out of the car and walked up to the door, taking a deep breath before knocking. After a few seconds, a slim woman opened the door. Felicity was relieved that it was her, and not her husband. That made things easier.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked warily, looking over at Oliver and Tommy who towered over Felicity, even in her heels.

“Hi, I’m Felicity,” she began unsteadily. 

“Okay. Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t,” Felicity said quickly. “And, I don’t know you either. But I sort of know your husband. You see, I’ve been messaging with your husband for the past week on a dating app.” The woman’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know it was your husband. He was pretending to be someone he wasn’t. But, I just figured you should know.”

The husband walked over and his wife looked at him and asked, “Is this true?”

“No, of course not,” he said, looking angrily over at Felicity. “Who the hell are you?”

“There’s no point in lying,” Felicity returned heatedly. She surged forward and Oliver grabbed her arm. “I tracked the IP address associated with the account to here. IP addresses do not lie, and it came from this house!”

At that moment, the family’s son, who looked to be around 15 or 16, walked over and he blanched when he saw Felicity, blurting out, “Oh _frak_.”

“Mike, go back in the kitchen,” his mother said hurriedly.

Felicity quickly put together the pieces, and she said, “You know what, I think we might have actually gotten the wrong address.” She moved backwards, knocking into Tommy. “Yeah. I think we should have been a block over. I’m so sorry about the confusion. You guys have a nice night!”

She hurried over to the car and when they were all in, Tommy aid slowly, “So, just to be clear, you were messaging a teenager?”

“We are never speaking of this again.”


	4. Chapter 4

Felicity took the elevator up to Queen Consolidated, idly watching the headlines stream on the bottom of the interior elevator screen for the ride three floors up. After she came home from hunting down her catfish, Felicity came down from all of the adrenaline and realized the danger she had potentially put herself in. She definitely hadn’t been thinking it would be a teenager. More the nerdy computer-type who got off on embarrassing women from behind a computer screen. Still arguably not the most intimidating, but things tended to go off the rails around her and she could have ended up in a dangerous situation.

Felicity hadn’t been up to Queen Consolidated before and she was surprised in the shift from her law firm’s floor to that of the larger corporation. The design was extremely luxe, which Felicity couldn’t help but think was part of that Isabel woman’s design. Oliver didn’t strike her as an interior design guy, but she could definitely see Isabel dropping thousands of dollars on a lamp.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked, noticing Felicity standing in the lobby.

“Yes,” Felicity said, walking over to her. “I was hoping I could see Oliver Queen?”

“Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked.

Felicity remembered then that Oliver was the CEO of Queen Consolidated and you probably couldn’t just walk in and get a meeting with him.

“I don’t,” she admitted, adding, “But, I’m a friend. I think. Anyway, I was hoping I could just talk with him quickly.”

The door opened behind Felicity and she looked back, swearing under her breath when Isabel walked in. The receptionist asked, “What is that you said?”

“Nothing,” Felicity said quickly.

“Let me guess, you’re here to see Oliver?” Isabel asked. “Well, I can save you the trouble. He’s not here.” Isabel looked down at her phone, brushing past Felicity as she tossed off, “He’s at that horrible gym of his.”

It was the end of the workday, so Felicity headed to the gym, stopping short when she walked in and saw a particularly arresting sight. Oliver was on some weird ladder thing, his bare torso stretching and flexing as he bounded up the ladder with sharp exhales. Felicity watched, tilting her head to the side.

“Can I help you?” a deep Australian voice asked.

Felicity jumped, her hand flying to her chest. “Hi. Yes. I’m here to see Oliver?”

He nodded, looking at her for a moment before calling out, “Oliver! Someone here to see you, mate!”

Oliver hopped down from the salmon ladder, throwing on a grey hoodie and zipping it up partway as he walked over.

“Hey, this is a surprise,” he said.

Felicity could see the sheen on sweat on his chest, and she blinked rapidly before she said, “I wanted to come here and thank you for last night.”

The Australian made a sort of snorting noise, and Oliver said, “It was no problem. But, I thought we were never speaking of it again?”

“This is the thank-you loophole,” Felicity said.

“Ah, the thank-you loop hole. Of course.”

Felicity grinned, biting the inside of her cheek before it got too big, and said, “Anyway, it was pretty stupid on my part, so thank you for making sure I didn’t get jumped or something.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze going over his shoulder to the ladder, and she asked, “So, um, what were you doing over there when I came in? On that ladder thingy?”

“The salmon ladder?”

“Sure,” Felicity said. “If that’s what it’s called.”

“It is,” he said with a slight grin. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” she said, although he was already headed toward the ladder.   
At this point, she really had no choice but to follow, so she did, ignoring the bemused look the tall Australian was shooting them from the water cooler.

“The objective is to move the rod from one wrung to the next,” Oliver said, seamlessly demonstrating the move. Felicity was marginally disappointed he kept his sweatshirt on. 

“It looks hard.”

“It’s definitely advanced,” he admitted, hopping down from the rod with ease. “But, it’s just something you work your way to. Like anything else.”

He was still looking at her, and it occurred to her that he was referring to her.   
“Oh, I am never doing that.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it looks good. _You_ looked very good doing it. Very good…form?”

“The no shirt probably helped,” the Australian threw in, and when he sensed Oliver’s glare, he added, “I meant for seeing the form.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Slade,” Oliver said drily.

“I could barely get through punching, so I don’t think this –“ Felicity gestured toward the ladder. “Is going to be happening.”

“Your punches weren’t bad.” She went to argue, and he said, “You just aren’t trained. That can be fixed.”

“Oliver, I punched myself in the face,” she reminded him.

He smirked down at her, his face so stupidly perfect that she wanted to slap him. No one should have the right to look that perfect, especially when everything below the neck was just as good. 

“I remember,” he said. “That was a very special day for me. I like to think of it as the start of our friendship.”

“That’s one way to think of it,” she said, her heart racing at the closeness of him, but tempered slightly by his use of the word, friend. Probably for the best. From Sara’s description of him, Felicity didn’t generally get involved with people like Oliver. Although, having been around him a lot more recently, Felicity was having difficulty reconciling the Oliver that Sara talked about and the one she knew.

“Hold on,” Slade said, coming over to actually join them. “Is this the girl?”

“Slade, I don’t think-“

“You’re a legend here,” Slade said. “The girl who punched herself out? And on her first lesson. Really, you should be proud of yourself.”

“I feel like you’re mocking me, but I can’t actually tell,” Felicity said.

“It’s the accent,” Slade said. “It confuses people. But, really. Impressive.”

He walked away again and Felicity murmured, “I still can’t tell.”

“It’s probably better that way,” Oliver said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “You know, I’m teaching a class tonight if you wanted to stay.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I already have plans.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Is that so?”  
“Oh yes. Ben & Jerry’s and The Bachelor. I can’t cancel on Chris Harrison.”

“I understand that. He’s a man of high moral character. Well, anyway, you’re welcome anytime. It was nice seeing you.”

She was confused for a second by the “you’re welcome” and then remembered that that had been why she went all the way here in the first place. Their conversation had taken so many different directions, that she had truthfully forgotten. 

“Anyway, I should get going,” Felicity said, her phone out to order an Uber.

“Hey, before you go,” Oliver said, reaching out for her phone. “Do you mind?”

“Uh, that depends on what you’re going to do.”

He grinned. “Nothing bad.” She handed it over and he quickly tapped into her phone contacts and began typing. “I figured you should have my number in case you find yourself chasing after any other catfishes.”

“That is very thoughtful of you.”

Oliver handed Felicity back her phone, and they exchanged an almost shy grin before she headed out, giving Slade a small wave. When it was just the two of them, Slade said, “She’s not your usual type.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Oliver said.

“She has brains. This one might actually give you some trouble.”

* * *

That night, Felicity and Sara settled in for a night of ice cream, wine and The Bachelor. Midway through the two-hour extravaganza, Felicity’s phone buzzed on the table. Sara grabbed it for her, noticing the name on the message and asking, “Since when do you and Oliver text?”

Felicity quickly took her phone, smiling to herself when she saw his message asking how her night with Chris Harrison was going.

“We exchanged numbers recently,” she said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I never said it was.”

Felicity looked over at Sara and said, “You don’t have a problem with it, right?”

“No,” Sara said sincerely. “I told you, we were just two friends fucking.” Sara paused and then added, “But, that’s not you.”

“Neither of us have any intention to do…well, _that_.”

“Fucking?” Sara repeated with a goading grin.

“Yes, that. We’re just friends.”

Felicity’s phone buzzed again.

“A double text. That’s rare from Oliver Queen. Actually, I don’t know if he ever texted me if it wasn’t just to meet up.”

“That’s because you don’t like texting,” Felicity pointed out.

“Fair.” Sara thought it was something more than that, and she decided the best way to explore it was to see the two of them together. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Nothing, why?”  
“I was thinking of having some people over.”

Felicity shrugged. “Yeah, why not.”

“As long as you’re texting Oliver, tell him to come.”

Felicity was too engrossed in her texting to smell the setup, and said, “Sure.”

* * *

Laurel stood with her sister off to the side of the room, watching Sara closely examining an interaction between Felicity and a tall male and asked, “What is going on?”

“Huh? Nothing,” Sara said, her attention still on the pair.

“Who’s that talking to Felicity?”

“Oliver,” Sara said, eyes narrowed. “Hey, what do you think when you see them together?”

Laurel shrugged. “I don’t know. That there’s a pretty significant height difference?”

Sara smirked. “No, what I mean is, does it look like a good idea? I can’t tell if it’s a good idea.”

“They’re two people talking at a party,” Laurel said slowly. “I think you’re putting too much thought into this.”

“I wanted to see them together,” Sara said. “To try to see if he was serious, but I can’t tell.”

“Hold on, are you telling me you put together tonight just for – “ she gestured toward the pair “ – _that_?”

Sara looked over at her sister and nodded. “It’s been really slow at work.”

“Why do you even care? Felicity’s a big girl. She can handle herself.”

“I just know her. She’s a relationship girl and Oliver is definitely not. But…” she trailed off, looking back at the pair. “I’m not so sure now.”

There was a knock on the door and someone nearby opened it, Sara blanching when she saw who was at the door.

“Who the fuck invited him?”

* * *

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Felicity said. “I know it was a bit last minute.”

“The best parties usually are,” Oliver said. “But, for the record, 24-hour notice is not last minute.”

Felicity raised her eye brows at that and asked, “What’s the shortest notice you’ve gotten?”

“For a party? Um, no notice, actually. I used to have a roommate who really liked to live in the moment. One time he literally just invited people back to our apartment on our way home from a show.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, there was definitely some stuff missing the next morning.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Tommy asked, joining them. 

“My old roommate, Rob.”

“Oh yeah, Rob,” Tommy said with recognition. “He was bat shit.”

“Yes, he was.”

They went on a bit about this Rob guy, but Felicity had stopped listening, her eyes on the man who had just walked into the apartment. She didn’t know how he heard about the party, or how he had the balls to actually show up. Last time he had been at the apartment, Sara threatened him with a butter knife. Granted, that was about a year ago, but Felicity was pretty sure the sentiment remained unchanged.

“Hey, earth to, Felicity,” Tommy said, knocking his elbow against hers.

“Sorry,” she stammered, looking back at him. “I just got distracted.” She could feel her cheeks burning and she was probably starting to get those red splotches on her chest that showed up whenever she got too uncomfortable. 

“Is everything okay?” Oliver asked.

“Oh yeah. Everything’s fine,” Felicity said. “It’s just, my ex-boyfriend is here for some reason. I haven’t seen him in a year.”

She saw Sara start to storm over and quickly surged forward, stopping her with her hands looped firmly around her arms.

“Sara, it’s fine.”

“Felicity,” Cooper said, walking over. He gave Sara a passing look and acknowledged her with a dip of his head.

Sara returned with, “I’d like you to know that I’m envisioning about eight different ways that I could hurt you right now. Eight very different, very painful ways.”

“Why don’t you go check if we have enough ice,” Felicity told Sara, giving her a little push toward the kitchen when she didn’t move. Sara grudgingly walked away.

“She is a very terrifying person,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Felicity sighed. “What are you doing here, Coop?”

“Can’t I go to a party without an ulterior motive?”

“Not at this apartment. Or, are you forgetting that you cheated on me with your nineteen year old student?”

Felicity expected some smart retort. That was how Cooper always handled it before. But instead, his face sobered, and he said in a remarkably sincere voice, “I haven’t forgotten. And I wanted to apologize.”

“You really don’t have to,” Felicity said, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “It’s been a year. I’m over it.”

“I know you probably are,” Cooper said. “But, I’m supposed to be apologizing to the people that I’ve hurt. And out of everyone, you’re probably the person I’ve hurt the most.”

“Why are you apologizing to the people you’ve hurt?”

Cooper hesitated before saying, “It’s part of the recovery process.”

She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Remember when I hurt my back on that skiing trip we took together?” Cooper asked.

Felicity nodded. It was only a few months before she found him and his student in his office.

“Well, the doctor put me on pain pills. I was supposed to stop taking them after a few weeks, but I didn’t.” Felicity listened in shock. “For about the next year, I basically drove my life into the ground until I ended up passing out in an airport bathroom, and…here I am.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Felicity said.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m not asking for you to forgive me or excuse what I did. I just wanted to tell that you I’m sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably have no right to say this, but I really did love you. You were the best part of me.”

Felicity crossed her arms tighter across her chest.

“Anyway, I won’t stay,” he said. 

She nodded, watching him walk away, and then she said, “Coop, wait.”

He turned around and she noticed then how much older he looked. Like the last year had taken more than 365 days from him.

“Thank you for telling me.”

He nodded. “Take care, Felicity.”

He left, and with him gone, Felicity felt like a weight had been lifted and replaced with something even heavier. Sara returned and said, “He’s gone already? Good riddance.”

“I’m going to get a drink refill,” Felicity said.

As she walked away, Sara touched her arm and asked, “Are you okay?”

Felicity nodded, although she could feel tears beginning to press at the back of her eyes. She quickly escaped to the kitchen, thankfully finding it largely unoccupied. She topped off her glass of wine, taking a large gulp and then topping it off again. The wine served as a sort of blanket on her mounting feelings, and she went out onto the balcony feeling more secure. After a few seconds, the door opened again and Oliver stood next to her.

“Are you okay?”

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that,” she said sharply.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, beginning to step backwards toward the door. “I’ll just…”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said looking back at him. “Stay. Please.”

He nodded, returning to her side. She leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the balcony railing.

“I’ve spent the last year hating him. No, more than hating him. _Despising_ him. And now, I actually feel bad for him.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Oliver said slowly. “But, I know relationships are rarely straightforward.”

“He cheated on me. In just about the most contrived way possible, and now I find out that when it happened, he was…” she trailed off, for some reason feeling guilty for disclosing Cooper’s addiction. “Anyway, he wasn’t himself at the time. At least not the person I knew. And now I feel like…can I even really be mad at him? How horrible of a person does that make me?”

“I think you can feel however you want.”

There was a gust of wind and an involuntary shudder passed through her shoulders. Oliver shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching up to the lapels and pulling it tighter around her.

“I thought I was going to marry him. And then I thought he was the worst person I had ever met. And now…I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.”

Felicity looked over at Oliver, noticing the goosebumps on his arm, and said, “You’re cold.”

“It’s okay. It builds character.”

Felicity reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Thank you for checking in on me.”

She went to pull away, but he kept a hold of her hand.

* * *

“So, want to make a bet on how long it takes for them to get together?” Tommy asked Sara.

Sara slid her eyes over to him. “Seriously?”

“My bet is a month. Oliver tends to have his head up his ass with stuff like this. She doesn’t seem much better.”

Sara smirked. “You’re not wrong. So, you think he’s serious about her?”

“Well, I’ve heard about her for a few weeks now and far as I know he hasn’t tried to sleep with her.”

Sara nodded, watching the pair. Oliver was still holding Felicity’s hand, but then the latter said something and they separated, turning back into the apartment. 

“I give it two weeks,” Sara said.

“You willing to put money on it?”

“Sure. One hundred?” she proposed.

Tommy considered it for a moment before clinking his beer bottle with hers. “You’ve got a deal.”


	5. Chapter 5

Felicity stood in the elevator bay, smirking as she scrolled through the photos on her phone from her mom. Donna had started dating a waiter at the casino she worked with a few weeks back named Rick. Rick had two young daughters from a prior marriage, and Donna sent her photos of them dressed up as Elsa and Anna for Halloween.

“What has you smiling so much?” Oliver asked, stepping next to her.

“Oliver, hi,” she said easily. She showed him her phone. “How cute are they?”

He laughed, reaching over and turning the phone more toward him, his hand partially covering hers.

“That is pretty cute. Friends of yours?”

“It’s my mom’s boyfriend’s kids,” Felicity said. “That was a mouthful, huh?”

“Kind of, but I followed. So, what are you doing for Halloween?”

“Sara and I are hosting something small,” Felicity said, putting her phone back into her purse. “Consider this your official invitation.”

Oliver stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I appreciate the offer, but Slade and I are having something at the gym.”

“Really? At the gym?”  
He nodded. “Slade gets pretty into it with a different theme each year.”

“Themes,” Felicity said with a grin. “What’s the theme this year?”

“Zombie apocalypse. He’s actually getting some of the staff to put on the zombie makeup and prowl around the party. They’re pretty into it.”

“Wow and that sounds _so_ much cooler than what we are planning,” Felicity said. She was in charge of theme, and it was pretty much just going to be candy and pumpkins.

He laughed and said, “Not at all. Honestly, I’d rather be at your party. The big stuff really isn’t my scene anymore.”

“Well, you are more than welcome to our small party.”

“Do you have a costume picked out yet?” Oliver asked when the elevator door opened. He gestured for her to walk in first.

“Yes, I do. I think I really hit it out of the park this year.”

“That good?”

“It’s comfortable _and_ has pockets. So, yeah. Clear out of the ballpark. What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t wear a costume,” he said. When she gave him a look he said, “It’s not really my thing.”

“But, it’s Halloween. You have to wear a costume.”

“I do just fine without one.”

She smirked and patted his arm. “I’m sure you do, Oliver.”

It was his turn to be flustered, and he said, “I didn’t mean-“

“But, do you know who does even better? The Dread Pirate Roberts.”

He smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

Halloween came on them faster than expected and Felicity had a moment of panic when her costume made a little detour on its way to her, but then it found its way back to her apartment and she excitedly put it on the night of, nodding appraisingly in the mirror.

“Yes. This is exactly what I wanted.”

Sara walked in, outfitted in her White Canary costume, and she took one look at Felicity before saying, “If you had any hopes of getting laid tonight, they died with that costume.”

“I’m not looking to get laid tonight,” Felicity said happily. “I’m looking to stuff my face with cookies.”

“Because you’re the cookie monster?” Sara said drily, taking in the blue fuzzy monstrosity on her roommate.

“Yes. That is exactly why. Come on, this should not surprise you, Sara. Me in a zip-up onesie? It’s practically my dream costume.”

“Yeah, well, when you see something with a cute butt you’re going to regret that dream costume.”

Felicity stuck her hands into the pockets, stretching the material out in front of her. “Not possible.”

* * *

Oliver hated big parties. He really did. He and Tommy stood in the gym, the music loud and pounding in his head like a hangover that came before the drinking. He didn’t know when the shift happened. He used to love clubs. Crowds. The pulsating music coursing through his body like a drug, pushing and pulling him through the night until it was morning, the sun searing his eyes as he stepped out into the light. Now, all he wanted to do was go home. Tommy wanted to leave too, but for other reasons.

“Dude, come on,” Tommy said stiffly, his body rigid as one of the fake-Zombies sniffed around him. The zombie swerved around in front of him, her head lolling to the side with a crooked grin.

“NO!” Tommy said loudly, crashing into Oliver. “Take a hint!” 

The zombie slunk away and Tommy said, “I don’t like this, Oliver. I don’t like it.”

Oliver smirked. “You knew the theme.”

“This is beyond a theme. This is torture.” He spotted another zombie on the prowl and he grabbed Oliver, moving them definitively out of its path. “This…is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“You know I could just tell them to stay away from you. I know them all.”

“Hey, isn’t Sara having something?” Tommy said.

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Let’s go there.”

“I thought you didn’t like house-parties for Halloween,” Oliver said. “They were, as you put it, so 2013.”

“I don’t even care. I’ll go anywhere to not have to be here.”

Oliver shrugged, thinking that Felicity would be there. “Sure, let’s go.”

* * *

Felicity already loved her costume, and after half a bottle of wine, she _really_ loved it. It was warm. Comfortable. And, their weird neighbor, who hit on her constantly on an average day, had barely paid her a glance. This was a good costume. It was _magical_.

And then Oliver and Tommy walked in. 

“Oh frak.”

Sara learned in toward her roommate and said, “Still loving that costume?”

“Yes,” she returned stubbornly, chasing it with a large gulp of wine. Oliver spotted her and came over, stopping on his way to say hi to Sara. Felicity reached up and tugged the furry hood firmer over her head, figuring that if she was going to make an impression, she might as well make the full one.

“That’s quite the costume,” Oliver said, lips quirking as he gazed down at her.

A girl in a short flight attendant costume passed by, eyes lingering on Oliver. Felicity couldn’t have blamed him for exploring that option, but, he didn’t look at the flight attendant. For some inexplicable reason, he was only looking at her. She began to rock on her heels.

“So, I see you kept with your no-costume stance,” she said.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black eye mask. “Consider this the Dread Pirate Roberts-lite.”

He tugged it over his eyes and she grinned, reaching up to straighten the mask. 

“This is a very good look on you,” she said. “You should consider wearing masks year-round.”

He laughed. “I’ll consider it.”

His gaze lingered on her face and she felt her cheeks flush until his gaze went lower to the bluer parts of her, and he said, “I’m sorry, where did you even find this?”

“The internet. It’s a very good enabler.”

“It’s pretty great. You might be the best dressed here.”

“And you haven’t even seen the best part,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a bag of cookies, dangling them jauntily in front of him. He laughed, plucking the bag of cookies from her hand.

“Felicity, you’re remarkable.”

“Thank you for remarking on it.”

* * *

“I thought you and Oliver had that party at the gym tonight,” Sara said to Tommy, taking a pull of her beer.

“We did, but it was pretty boring,” Tommy said nonchalantly. “I mean, you go to one premiere Halloween party and they’re all the same, you know?”

Sara looked over at him. “You are so full of shit.”

“What? I’m not lying.”

“You are. And you are very bad at it.” 

“Oliver wanted to come?” Sara narrowed her eyes, and he said, “That’s not entirely a lie.”

“What are you trying to hide?” she asked with a slight grin.

She held his gaze, an unspoken challenge, and after a moment he sighed and flatly said, “Fine, the party brought up some previously unknown phobias on my part. And, then I thought about this party and here we are.”

“I’m sorry, go back to the part about previously unknown phobias,” Sara said with a grin. “What phobia?”

“Zombies,” Tommy admitted. “They had them prowling around the party.”

“You do realize zombies aren’t real right?”

“I know they’re not real!” he returned emphatically. “But, when they’re in the makeup and everything, just take my word for it. It is not good.”

Sara smirked, taking another pull from her beer. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”

* * *

The edges were beginning to get blurry. The line between what was happening and what she was imagining, because Oliver was touching her like she always imagined. His hand on her waist. Breath on her neck. Except, she was dressed like the Cookie Monster, and that didn’t happen in even some of her weirder fantasies. Which meant, this was actually happening. Somewhere between her pulling the bag of cookies out of her pocket and now, the party had dwindled. She vaguely remembered Tommy and Sara talking in a corner. Someone told her good bye, but she couldn’t remember who or when. 

They were in her bedroom, both of their heads swimming, but neither was willing to stop. If they were being honest, this had been brewing for months and it felt perfectly natural that it was happening here and now, Oliver slowly unzipping her onesie. He pushed the synthetic plush over her shoulder, replacing it with his mouth. Felicity was caught between the conflicting feeling of wanting everything at once and wanting it to last as long as possible. Because, she had spent far too long thinking about this moment. Wanting it. Dreaming of it. Convincing herself that it would never happen. For Oliver’s part, he took his time, trailing kisses along her jaw as his hands explored. They stumbled back toward her bed and she sat down, kicking the onesie off as she scooted backwards, reaching for him. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

* * *

In another bedroom, Sara pressed Tommy against the wall, kissing him hard. After a moment, she pulled away and said, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding quickly and kissing her again. He pulled away, and said, “But, I mean, it has to mean _something_.”

“Tommy,” she said shortly.

“Sorry, you’re right. It means nothing.” He kissed her again, lifting his arms as she tugged his shirt off. “Absolutely nothing.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Oliver woke up somewhere early in the morning, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. It didn’t take him long to realize that he wasn’t in his room. Back at his apartment, his bedroom was barebones. Just a bed, nightstand and dresser with non-descript artwork that Tommy made him buy after he said his room made him look like a serial killer. This room was different. It was bursting with personality. He hadn’t noticed all the different odds and ends when he and Felicity stumbled into the room last night, having been a bit preoccupied. But now, he took his time looking around, each new thing catching his attention unapologetically _her_. 

She shifted next to him, turning on her side so that she faced him. He thought she was awake for a second, but then her breathing settled and she continued sleeping, caught somewhere between last night and now. Oliver didn’t know how long he just laid there watching her sleep, but after a while even he felt creepy and he carefully slipped out of bed and pulled on his pants and shirt. He went outside to grab himself a glass of water, stopping short when he saw Tommy, in a robe, at the faucet. 

Tommy looked back and started at the sight of his best friend. He hadn’t known where Oliver ended up the night before, preoccupied by his own good fortune, also known as Sara Lance. Tommy pointed at Felicity’s room with his eyebrows raised and Oliver smiled slightly before nodding.

“About time,” Tommy whispered. “Wait, what’s today’s date?”

“Uh, the 30th, I think?”

Tommy quickly did the math in his head and said, “Shit. Sara won the bet.”

“What?”

“Tommy, where the hell are you with those waters?” Sara said, appearing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her eyes widened when she saw Oliver, and she said, “What are you doing here?”

“You won the bet,” Tommy said.

“Fuck yeah,” Sara said happily. “Pony up, Merlyn.”

Tommy gestured to his robe. “With what?”

“Good point. I’ll just take it from your wallet.” She looked back at Oliver and said, “For the record, you hurt her, I hurt you.”

“Understood,” Oliver said with a curt nod.

Sara went to turn back to her room, but then she hesitated and said, “And this…” she gestured between her and Tommy, “…just sex.”

“We’re still working out the fine points,” Tommy said quickly, skirting past Oliver toward Sara. Before she could respond, he was pushing her back in the bedroom.

Oliver grabbed a glass of water from the cupboard and filled it from the faucet before downing half of it in a few quick gulps. He went back into Felicity’s room and she was awake.

“Was Tommy out there with you? If not, I’m going to have to question the direction of my dreams.”

Oliver smirked, lying back down next to her. “You did hear him. Apparently, him and Sara…”

“No way,” Felicity said.

“According to Sara, it is only sex. She was very insistent on that point.”

“Of course, she was.”

Felicity hesitated for a moment before scooting closer to him, wrapping her hand around his arm with her face resting on his shoulder. He found her hesitancy endearing and that endearment shifted into a hesitancy of his own as he thought about what Sara told him.

_You hurt her, I hurt you_.

But, he wouldn’t hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted to do. His memories of the night before were hazy, but he remembered exactly how it felt to have her in his arms. It was as if something had clicked into place that he hadn’t known was missing.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“I’m really happy I’m here.”

She turned her face into his shoulder, grinning, and said, “I’m really happy you’re here, too. And Sara was saying I couldn’t get action with my costume. Jokes on her.”

“The costume was very much a selling point,” he said. 

Felicity yawned wide, burrowing herself closer to him. “I should leave them a nice review.”

He grinned, and just as he was about to say something, she snored, the sound like a musical catch in her throat. He exhaled softly, taking his free arm and sliding it behind his head. Felicity was fast asleep on him, but he had trouble falling back asleep, his mind racing as his eyes travelled the expanse of her speckled ceiling. 

_You hurt her, I hurt you._

* * *

Felicity woke slowly, stretching her arm out and feeling nothing but her mattress. Unless she was dreaming, Oliver had been there before. She rolled onto her back, head turning to the side. A condom wrapper peaked from below her bed’s dust ruffle. It definitely hadn’t been a dream.

As if on cue, Oliver walked back into the room, closing the door behind him. He was wearing shoes. Why was he wearing shoes? He was supposed to be in her bed.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, sitting up. He didn’t respond right away and the cover fell to her waist. She grabbed it and pulled it back up, suddenly feeling bare in more ways than one. 

“Oliver,” she said. His name was a question. A statement. A plead for this to not turn out the way her deepest fears told her that it would.

“I’d like to take you out for dinner.”

The words should have excited her, but the way he delivered them left little room for joy. She ran her fingers through her hair, her scalp protesting when she dragged them through the tangles that were there from last night.

“No, I don’t think I’ll do that,” she said.

“Felicity-“

“It’s to end this, isn’t it? Whatever _this_ is.” He didn’t try to correct her and she wiped at her eye. “Yeah, so I think I’ll pass on that dinner.”

“Felicity, I-“

“You should probably go,” Felicity said flatly. “Sara and I have a lot of cleaning to do.”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

He wanted to stay. To apologize. But the tenor of her request had left little room for interpretation, so he left, entirely unsure if he made the right decision.

* * *

Tommy pressed open-mouthed kisses along Sara’s jaw, his hand travelling under the cover as she arched into him. Her eyes fluttered shut but then they sprang open when she heard something familiar. Something bad.

Tommy pulled away from her and asked, “Is that Michael Bolton playing?”

Sara sat up and hissed, “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“Michael Bolton only plays for one reason in this apartment,” Sara said, sitting up. “And that is when Felicity has her heart broken.”

“Isn’t she only 29?” Tommy sad. 

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s just…Michael Bolton is her sad music?”

The song changed and Sara said, “She’s skipping over to his _The Hunger_ album. This isn’t good.

Sara was already out of bed and pulling on clothes and Tommy said, “Hold on, where are you going?”

“To go murder your roommate.”

* * *

Oliver was on the salmon ladder when Sara showed up at the gym and he pretended to not hear her when she called out his name, climbing higher on the ladder. She stood below him, arms crossed over her chest and angrily said, “You can’t get away from me that easily, Oliver. I swear to God, I will follow you up there.”

“It’s actually against our safety code to have two people on the salmon ladder,” Slade said from the side, where he was pulling down Halloween decorations and putting them into a garbage bag.

“Can it, Crocodile Dundee,” she threw back. Looking back up at the ladder, she said, “Oliver, get down here. _Now_.”

Oliver reluctantly hopped back down, wiping his hands on his pants. He thought that she would launch right into yelling at him, but instead she just stood there, glaring at him. Honestly, it was worse than the yelling.

“Sara-“

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sara said. “No, really, _what_ is _wrong_ with you? Because, you two finally sleep together. It seemed like things were good this morning. And then, I’m about to have what was shaping up to be some pretty great morning sex, and I hear _Michael Bolton_.”

“What does Michael Bolton have to do with this?” Oliver asked with confusion.

“It’s Felicity’s sad music! It’s what she listens to when some little shit breaks her heart. And, in this situation, guess who the little shit is?” Sara stepped closer, her voice dropping as she said, “Oliver, I told you, if you hurt her-“

“You hurt me,” he finished bluntly. “Yeah, I remember. I heard that about every five seconds in my head for the rest of the night.”

Sara laughed humorlessly and said, “Oh, so you’re blaming me for this?”

“No,” he said immediately, shaking his head. “I’m not blaming you for anything. I’m just saying, that’s not the sort of thing you say to a guy with a good track record. I know what you think about me.”

“No, you really don’t,” Sara said. “Because, up until an hour ago, I was thinking about how great you were for my friend.”

Oliver shook his head, jaw tight. “This is for the best. I only would have hurt her.”

“You _did_ hurt her,” Sara said. “How do you not see that?”

“It would have been worse.”

Sara shook her head in disbelief and said, “The egomania here is staggering. Really.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll hurt her now to save her from being hurt later,” Sara said, mimicking his voice. “Do you hear yourself?”

“I made my decision,” he said tightly.

“Yeah,” Sara said heavily. “And hers, too. Don’t come back to the apartment. She’ll be nice, because she doesn’t know how to be any other way, but I won’t.”

Sara stormed off and Slade walked over to Oliver, hesitantly asking, “So, you want to talk about it, mate?”

“No. I really don’t.”


	7. Chapter 7

After Halloween, Felicity did everything she could to not run into Oliver. She knew his usual schedule, so she got to work a half-hour earlier, taking the extra time to really enjoy her morning cup of coffee and catch up on her emails without her cubicle-mate breathing down her neck. She had almost perfected her new Oliver-free-routine when she predictably had the day when she didn’t, her train running late and then she walked into the building and there he was, looking disarmingly handsome waiting for the elevator in his basic blue suit. She turned around swiftly, figuring that being five minutes late would be worth it to not have to be in an enclosed space with Oliver Queen, but in her haste, she hadn’t checked if anyone was behind her, and she turned directly into something solid. And that something solid’s coffee.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Felicity said, dabbing ineffectually at his shirt. A good portion of the coffee had also ended up on her, but that felt less important. She glanced up at him as she spouted off more apologies, stopping short when she recognized who she had just collided with. Ray Palmer. Billionaire tech genius. She’d followed his career for years, marveling at each new invention and innovation. If she were in high school still, he’d be the person she had pictures of up in her locker.

“It’s you,” she breathed out, quickly correcting herself with, “I don’t mean, it’s _you_. That would be weird. I don’t know you. Except, I sort of do. Everyone does.” He raised his eye brows. “I mean, obviously. You’re Ray Palmer.”

“Yes, I am,” he said with a congenial grin. “And you are?”

“Felicity Smoak,” a droll female voice said, belonging to none other than Isabel Rochev. She stopped next to them and said, “And here I thought Oliver was the only billionaire you fawned over in this lobby. Hello Ray.”

Felicity blinked rapidly and stammered, “I didn’t fawn…”

“Come on, Ray, I’ll take you up to our floor,” Isabel said smoothly. She looked at the coffee stain on Felicity’s shirt and said, “That’ll be a bitch to get out. Have a nice day.”

Isabel was already walking toward the elevator bay, where Oliver was watching with interest, and Ray said, “Well, it was nice _bumping_ into you, Felicity Smoak.”

Felicity smiled slightly. “You too, Mr. Palmer.”

“Call me, Ray,” he said. “I hope to see you around. Preferably without losing half my coffee, though.”

Felicity winced. “Sorry again.”

He hit her with a smile so brilliant that it was almost blinding, and then he followed Isabel onto an elevator, Felicity hanging back for a second pretending to look through her purse so that she could avoid being on an elevator with them. The crowd dispersed and she walked over, deflating when she saw Oliver still in the elevator bay.

“Hello,” she said tightly, holding onto the strap of her purse like a life line as she looked everywhere but him. 

Over the week since Halloween, she had told herself repeatedly that it wasn’t a big deal. They slept together. He acted exactly like she always sort of knew he would. Big deal? Except, it was sort of a big deal, because she had developed feelings that were more than a one-night-stand, and she was pretty sure he had too, which was why she was grasping the strap of her purse so tightly that he knuckles were turning white.

“So, how are you?”

His voice was soft and hesitant, like her answer would dictate the rest of his day. 

“I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to look over at him with a steel that she didn’t quite feel. “And, how are you?”

“Felicity, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about before.”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Felicity said. “And here, in an elevator bay, is really not the place to discuss it. If there was something to discuss. Which, there isn’t.”

“Well, I don’t know where else to do it,” he said. “You won’t answer my calls. I’m pretty sure Sara would come after me with a knife if I showed up at your apartment.”

“Not a knife. Just a really large stick.”

“Felicity, I’m really sorry. I…” he trailed off when a group of people walked by and he inclined his head to the side, walking over to a quieter area with Felicity reluctantly following. When they were out of earshot, he said, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” she said, the words ringing false even to her. 

“Felicity.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” she said. “But, I’m fine now. Honestly.”

He paused for a moment and then said, “If you’re free tonight, I was hoping maybe we could grab some dinner and talk.” 

“Talk?” Felicity repeated.

“I messed up, Felicity.”

“By sleeping with me?”

“No,” he said immediately, his gaze meeting hers. “By leaving. I’ve had some time to think, and-”

He took her hand and she pulled away, interrupting him with, “I can’t do this.”

“Felicity-“

She shook her head and said, “You were there with me, and you told me you were happy, and then you left.”

“I got in my head,” he said.

“After _one_ night together? All we did was sleep together, Oliver. Literally the easiest part, and you bolted. What would happen when we actually faced something difficult?”

“That’s not fair.”

“But, it’s what happened,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I really have to get to work now.”

She turned around and cut off a group of people to get onto the nearest elevator. Several of them grumbled their annoyance, but she didn’t care. All she knew was that she needed to get away from Oliver Queen, and now there was a good twenty floors between them. She distracted herself with work, going clean through lunch and barely looking up from her computer until her phone rang.

“Hello, this is Felicity,” she said.

“Hi Felicity,” her receptionist said. “Um, there’s a guy here to see you?” Felicity felt herself grow nervous until she said, “His name is Ray Palmer?”

“Um, yes, you can send him back here," Felicity said, a different sort of nerves settling.

Felicity hung up, hurriedly trying to tidy up her cubicle. On the other side, her cubicle-mate, Matt said, “Who’s coming back here?”

“Felicity, hi,” Ray said, mega-watt smile in place above the cubicle partition. Matt looked over and his eyes widened as he said, “Oh my God. It’s _you_.”

“I tend to get that reaction a lot here,” Ray said with an easy laugh.

“Only amongst tech nerds,” Felicity said. 

“This is a nice cubicle,” Ray said, taking appraisal of all the different odds and ends. “I like what you did with the space.”

“I’m sorry, not to be rude, but what are you doing here?” Felicity asked. “Oh God, you’re not suing me over the coffee or something, are you?”

“No, besides, I have a lawyer to do the suing,” Ray said, fingers curling around the partition.

“Sure.”

“Anyway, I wanted to see if you were free for dinner?”

Felicity thought she hadn’t heard him correctly the first time, but her ears had always been in proper working order, so she nodded, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling too wide, and he said, “That’s great! So, when do you get off work?”

“In a half hour,” she said. 

“Alright. Then I’ll meet you downstairs in a half hour?”

She nodded. “Okay then. See you in a half hour.”

* * *

They went to an Italian restaurant near the Loop and Felicity listened to him talk, thinking that in her wildest dreams, she could have never imagined herself ending up in an Italian restaurant near the Loop with Ray Palmer. He had finished telling her a story about a nanotechnology experiment gone wrong, and he said, “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about you.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked after swallowing her forkful of pasta.

“Where are you from?”

“Las Vegas,” she said. “I moved to Chicago for college and, well, here we are.”

“Do you miss Vegas?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “My mom is still out there, though, so I visit when I can.”

“What does your mom do?” he asked.

“She’s a cocktail waitress at a casino out there,” Felicity said.

Ray nodded appreciatively and said, “So, you’re from hardworking stock. You know, my mom was a waitress, too.”

“I did know that,” Felicity said with a small smile. “She worked nights to put you through Stanford.” She suddenly felt a bit silly for knowing that, and said, “I might have known a little about you before we met.”

“I can tell,” he said.

“That’s not creepy, right? It’s probably creepy.”

“It’s not creepy at all,” Ray said. “I think of it as appreciative.”

“So, what were you doing at Queen Consolidated today?”

“Just exploring some business opportunities,” Ray said. “It seemed like you were familiar with Oliver Queen?”

Felicity stiffened, but then reminded herself that he could not possibly know about what had happened, and said, “Yeah, he’s a friend of my roommate’s.”

“It’s a small world, isn’t it?” he said off-handedly, taking a sip of wine.

“You have no idea.”

* * *

It turned out Ray Palmer came with his own driver, and so he gave her a ride back home after dinner, keeping a polite distance in the back of the car and only kissing her on the cheek when they parked in front of her apartment.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Felicity,” he said, face close to hers.

“I did, too,” she murmured.

She climbed out of the car, thinking that it had been a nice night, but part of her was still in the corner of that elevator bay with Oliver. She pushed the thoughts away, reminding herself that she had held strong in the face of him and she should do the same now. She had been hurt enough to know when to guard herself, and she was resolute in her decision. She wouldn’t give Oliver Queen the chance to hurt her again. Her phone buzzed, and it was Ray.

_Is it too soon to ask you for a second date?_

She could see that he was still typing, and after a second, another message popped up.

_Tonight was a date, right?_

Felicity smiled to herself and typed back a response.

_A second date sounds nice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this puts a crinkle in Olicity for the moment, but I actually adore Ray Palmer. So I am VERY excited to have him in this for a little bit!


	8. Chapter 8

A few dates in and Felicity couldn’t deny that she enjoyed dating Ray Palmer. There was something effortless about him – and being _with_ him – that made the whole thing remarkably simple. They liked each other, and there was nothing else competing with that. No baggage or history. It almost seemed too easy, but then Felicity reminded herself that only a crazy person would go ahead and question why dating a really smart and handsome guy was _too easy_. After the complications of Oliver, she could do with something easy.

While Felicity dove headfirst into her relationship with Ray, Sara did the same with Tommy, but still insisting, “We’re just fucking.”

“We’re at brunch,” Tommy returned, casting a glance at the family next to them, whose young daughter was watching them curiously. “You’re not just – “ he lowered his voice, “- _fucking_ , if you’re going to brunch.”

Sara snorted. “Says who?”

“Says me. I’ve gone to brunch with three women in my entire life, and I was related to two of them.”

“Tommy-“

“Why can’t you just admit that there’s something here?” he pressed. “Is it that awful to admit you like me?”

“Yeah, it kind of is,” she said, picking up her mimosa and tipping her head back as she finished the last sip. “Can we change the subject now?”

“You know, I’m a catch,” Tommy said, beginning to become indignant. “Many women – _many_ – would kill to be where you are right now.”

“I don’t think this overcooked omelet is worth a homicide.” 

“It’s not about the omelet!” he said. “It’s about us. Or, I guess I should say me. I’m sick of being your doormat.”

Sara looked at him with surprise. He always took her verbal lashings in stride before, it was almost a sort of foreplay for them, but now he seemed genuinely hurt.

“Tommy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“I’m done with this,” he said, standing up and slapping a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “I like you, Sara. And I’m pretty sure you like me. So, when you’re willing to accept that, you know where to find me.”

Sara sat in uncomfortable silence, the young girl one table over still staring at her. Sara made eye contact with her and hissed, “Mind your own business.”

The girl looked away quickly and Sara raised her hand to flag down the waitress for another mimosa.

* * *

“You do realize that you guys have pretty much been dating for weeks,” Felicity told Sara when her roommate came home slightly drunk and ranting about what had happened.

“We were not dating.”

“You were at brunch. That’s what people do when they date. In fact, Ray and I just went to brunch last week!”

“Yes, you and Ray are dating. I’m aware.” Sara said, collapsing on the couch. “Honestly, I think I miss the days of you pining after Oliver.”

“Tommy’s a good guy,” Felicity said, sitting next to her on the couch. “You could do a lot worse.”

“He’s a frat bro,” Sara said, the words sounding positively dirty. “Do you know he regularly has a shower beer?”

“I’ve had shower wines,” Felicity returned with a shrug. “I’m pretty sure you’ve had shower tequila.”

“Yeah, but not regularly. This is like a weekly occurrence for him.”

“No one’s perfect?”

“Anyway, it’s fine,” Sara said, propping her feet up on the table. “I’ll have more free time to myself. I can finally finish watching _The Sopranos._ And I did just buy that new vibrator. So, I’m good.”

“You know, you could just tell him that you made a mistake,” Felicity said. “Tell him you’re emotionally stunted. I’ll vouch for that.”

“No, it’s _Sopranos_ and my vibrator. I’ve made my decision.”

* * *

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for her to just admit that she has feeling for him,” Felicity said, walking with Ray into their office building. He had struck a deal with Queen Consolidated not long after they met, and so they had the perk of when she stayed at his apartment, not only leaving for work together in the morning, but going to the same office building.

“At least she’s getting to finish _The Sopranos_. I honestly can’t believe it took her this long.”

“I’m hoping it starts a pasta phase,” Felicity said, linking her arm with his. 

“Speaking of pasta, are we still on for tonight?” Ray asked. 

“Yes! I will never say no to pasta.”

“Why do I feel like I’m being overshadowed by a carb here?” he teased.

“You, my friend, are an added bonus,” she said, grinning up at him. They stopped in the lobby and he dropped his mouth to hers for a quick kiss. When they parted, Ray looked at something over her shoulder and asked, “Why is Oliver Queen staring at us?”

Felicity caught Oliver’s gaze and he quickly looked away, walking to the elevator bay.

“I doubt he was staring at _us_ ,” Felicity said. “Just, you know, in our general direction.” 

Ray raised his eyebrows and Felicity said, “Okay, fine, he was looking at us.”

“You know, you can tell me if there was something between you. I realize there were men before me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she returned innocently. “I was in a convent before I knew you.”

Ray smirked. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to be worried about how I’ll react. I’m a pretty self-assured person.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Since you asked, there was _almost_ something between us, but it’s old news. Any more questions?”

“No,” he said slowly. “But, thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For telling me,” Ray said simply, stepping closer. “Now, do you think it would be bad form to kiss you again right now?”

She grinned and shook her head. “No. I don’t think that at all.”

* * *

Oliver knew he had no right to be angry at Felicity for moving on. He had been the one to implode what they could have had, and that would be something he had to sit with every day and every night, but seeing her with _him-_

Oliver slammed his hand down on his desk, the sound making his secretary jump outside at her desk. He curled his hands tightly around the edge of his desk, trying to calm himself down. He had an important investor meeting that afternoon. This really wasn’t the time to be distracted. But then he thought about them in the lobby, Felicity smiling up at the other guy the way she had always smiled at him. It wasn’t fair. He apologized. He stepped up – like everyone had been telling him to – and it still didn’t work. He tried to be the good guy, and she ended up with Ray Palmer. 

There was a sharp knock on his door and Isabel walked in, greeting him with, “You look just as miserable as you did an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Really? Is that why you’ve been sulking in here all morning? You didn’t even come to the kitchen for Donut Friday. Half of the reason we get those stupid donuts is because of you.”

“Why do you care?”

“Oh, I don’t,” she said, planting her hands on her waist. “What I care about is you not completely tanking the meeting this afternoon. And, the you that I’m seeing right now? He’s not making me feel very confident.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You better be,” she said. “I don’t care what you need to do. Just do it.”

Oliver nodded stiffly, thinking that what he really wanted to do was punch Ray Palmer, but that didn’t seem like a viable option considering he also would be at the meeting. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and saw the unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Blue that Tommy bought him last year for Christmas. After a pause, he closed the drawer.

* * *

Felicity really did love pasta. It was the greatest thing to ever grace her mouth. And then the wine. Oh, the _wine_. She could write sonnets to the Chianti Ray had ordered. He knew how to order the perfect bottle without rattling off wine notes, an underappreciated quality in men. They were debating what to order for dessert when Felicity’s phone rang.

“Sorry, I should probably take it,” she said when she saw Sara was calling. 

“No problem.”

Felicity swiped into the call and said, “Hi Sara.”

“Felicity.”

The sound of her roommate’s voice was enough to send a chill down Felicity’s spine.

“Sara, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Tommy and Oliver. There was an accident and-“

“There was an accident?” Felicity repeated, feeling her cheeks heat. “What do you mean? Are they okay?”

“They’re in the hospital. Oliver isn’t bad, but Tommy…”

“What hospital are you at?” Felicity asked.

“Southwest Memorial.”

“I’ll be right there,” Felicity said, hanging up. She reached blindly for her purse next to her, a million thoughts going through her head. She picked up her phone again and ordered an Uber as she said, “I’m so sorry, but I have to go to the hospital. There was an accident and…no, I’m not at 83rdand Central. Why doesn’t this stupid app work?”

“Don’t call an Uber, I’ll drive you,” Ray said immediately, gesturing toward the waiter for the check.

“Ray, you don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” he said. When the waiter came over with the check, he stuffed several 50 dollar bills into the envelope and pressed it into the waiter’s hand. “Keep the change.”

* * *

The ride to the hospital felt like it took ages, but then they were somehow also there too soon. When she walked through those doors, she would have to face the reality. Until then, she could still convince herself that everything was fine. That it wasn’t all as bad as Sara made it sound on the phone.

They walked in and Felicity saw Sara immediately. She had been crying, eye red and face drawn. She hugged Felicity tightly and said, “Tommy's in surgery right now. They said his injuries were pretty bad, but who knows what that means. That doesn’t mean it’s automatically bad, right?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Felicity said, having no idea if she was telling the truth, but taking solace in the minimal comfort it afforded her roommate. “What about Oliver?”

“He just has a concussion,” Sara said, wiping at her eyes. “He was on the other side of the car. They got hit on Tommy’s side.”

Felicity nodded and without her having to ask, Sara said, “He’s in a room just down the hall if you want to see him?”

It was posed like a question, but they both knew there was only one answer. Felicity looked back at Ray and he said, “Go, I’ll be here.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath as she headed down the hallway to Oliver’s room. There was a certain relief when she saw him. Even though Sara had told her he wasn't bad, she didn’t quite believe it until she saw him. He was sitting up in bed, staring listlessly ahead. He looked up when she walked in and murmured, “You’re here.”

Felicity had a sudden urge to cry, but she fought against it as she walked to the side of his bed and told him, “I’m still your friend. I’m Tommy’s, too.”

“Do you have any news?”

She shook her head. “He’s still in surgery, as far as I know.”

Oliver turned his face away from her and it was then that she noticed the deep gash on his cheek, dotted with stitches. 

“Oliver,” she breathed out, moving closer. Her hand covered his shoulder, but he shrugged away from her touch.

“Don’t,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t deserve your worry. I don’t deserve any of it. I’m the reason Tommy is here. It’s my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you know why I have this?” he asked, gesturing to his IV. “To sober me up. I was drunk at a bar – too plastered to get myself a way home – so the bartender contacted the last person I called. And, you want to know the really ironic part? We apparently were hit by a drunk driver.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Felicity said.

“Really? Because if I hadn’t been drunk, Tommy wouldn’t have driven out to that bar and we wouldn’t have been out on the road. So, it feels a lot like my fault.” 

Felicity sat on the edge of his bed, tentatively asking, “Oliver, you want to talk about the reason you were drunk before seven on a weekday?”

“Not really.”

She hesitated before she asked, “It wasn’t because of-“

“I don’t want to talk about it, Felicity,” he snapped.

“Fine!” she said, her voice matching his. 

* * *

Outside the room, Ray watched Felicity and Oliver talk, Sara beside him, and he murmured, “He’s not just a friend, is he?”

Sara looked up at him. “No, he isn’t.”

Before he could say more, a doctor came over and asked, “Are you here for Tommy Merlyn?”

“Yes,” Sara said immediately, grasping onto Ray’s arm tightly. “Is he okay?”

The doctor nodded. “He’s in recovery now, but he’s doing well. He’s still relatively sedated, but you can see him.”

“I would like that. Thank you.”

The doctor led Sara over to his room and she went to the bedside shakily, looking down at Tommy. As the doctor said, he was still sedated, but she could tell that he recognized her by the slight grin that tugged on his mouth.

“Hey Sara,” he said.

She was so relieved to hear him say her name that she leaned forward without any sort of preamble and pressed her mouth against his. When she pulled away, her cheeks wet with tears, she said, “You aren’t allowed to do this again, okay?”

“Get hit by a car?” he said weakly.

“Yeah. Or anything else that lands you in a hospital. No more hospitals.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

She ran her thumb along his jaw, gazing down at him. “I was so worried, Tommy.”

“I’m okay,” he said, lifting his hand with effort and laying it on her arm. “And you’re here.”

“Yeah,” she said, kissing him again. “I’m here.”

* * *

The doctor came into Oliver’s room and said, “You’re clear to leave. But, we have you on some pretty heavy pain medications so you’re going to need someone to come and pick you up.”

Felicity was still in the room, for some reason unable to compel herself to leave after their argument, and she said, “I’ll take him home.”

“You don’t have to,” Oliver said immediately. “I can call Slade.”

“Why bother when I’m here? I’m taking you home, Oliver.”

He sighed. “Fine. Looks like you’re taking me home.”

“Just wait here,” she said.

She walked back out into the hallway to Ray and was about to tell him that she was going to take Oliver home when he told her, “I think I’m going to head out.”

“Okay,” she said. She sensed that something was off, and she asked, “Is everything alright?”

“You and Oliver…” he began. “It’s not really old news, is it?”

“Ray-“

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

* * *

Oliver wasn’t exactly a pleasant passenger on the ride to his house, and it didn’t improve when she helped him up to his apartment. When they left the hospital, the doctor told Oliver that he could only sleep in two hour stretches that night, and Felicity asked, “You’re going to listen to the doctor, right?”

He nodded, but she wasn’t entirely convinced considering what she saw at the hospital, so after helping him into this apartment she walked over to the kitchen and started making him some tea. He came out of his bedroom in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt and said, “You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m not. I’m just making you some tea.”

“I don’t need tea.”

“Everyone needs tea after the day you had,” she said reasonably.

Oliver shook his head before swiping into his phone and walking over. He showed her the alarm page, which had one set for every two hours.

“I’ll be up every two hours,” he said. “Just like the doctor said.”

“He also said someone should be checking on you,” she pointed out.

“I don’t need you to stay,” Oliver said.

Felicity looked up at him, the stress of the day getting to her, and said, “But maybe _I_ need to.”

He held her gaze, neither speaking, and after a moment he said, “The couch is yours.”

She nodded, looking down and then heading back into the kitchen to fetch the tea. She poured them each a cup, both of them talking aimlessly and pointedly ignoring what actually needed to be discussed, before he went to bed. As he walked to his bedroom, Oliver glibly said, “See you in two hours.”

Felicity settled on the couch, drawing her knees into her chest. She thought about how different the day had started and ended. That morning, she had woken up in Ray Palmer’s bed and now she was going to sleep on Oliver Queen’s couch. Everything that happened in between was a blur. Dinner. The hospital. Ray’s words before she left with Oliver.

_It’s not really old news, is it?_

She didn’t know where she and Ray stood anymore, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t somewhere good, because he had gotten a glance at what she tried so hard to hide, and she didn’t know if there was any coming back from that. Stretched out on Oliver’s couch, Felicity was pretty sure there was no way back.

Two hours later, her alarm went off and she walked over to Oliver's bedroom, leaning over as he gently nudged his shoulder.

“Oliver? Oliver, wake up.”

He groaned, opening his eyes and said, “How many more times do we have to do this?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” She held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Alright, that’s good. Back to sleep now.”

“This is going to get old really fast,” Oliver said, rolling onto his back.

Felicity gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and as she walked out, she murmured, “Yes, it is.”

Two hours later, she was back, rousing Oliver from his sleep and holding up a different number of fingers before going back out to the couch. By the third time, she just went to a chair in his room, and then after that, tired beyond reason, she walked around the bed and laid next to him on top of the covers.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Shush. You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

She was lying on her back, face up to the ceiling, and he turned onto his back, their breath mirroring the other as they both stared into the darkness. Oliver wasn’t particularly tired anymore and neither was she. There was too much unsaid between them, and it hung heavily in the air. Oliver moved his hand over and tentatively brushed the edge of her wrist. He held his breath until she covered his hand with hers.

“I’m really sorry, Felicity.”

“I know,” she said. 


	9. Chapter 9

After the accident, Tommy was still pretty weak, and so when he was discharged from the hospital, Sara told him that she would be looking after him, either at her apartment or at his. He had objected initially, mostly for show, but agreed to have Sara stay with him at his apartment until he was able to be a bit more mobile. Which left Felicity temporarily without a roommate. Two weeks ago, this would have been great. She and Ray could have set up house, taking advantage of the extra space, but their relationship ended the moment he saw her with Oliver at the hospital. The next day, he called her and said, “I don’t think I’m the person you really want to be with.”

“I’m sorry,” she had said, unable to refute his words. “I really wish you were.”

And so, Ray was gone and Felicity had an entire apartment to herself. Initially, she took advantage. She watched her British shows at all hours, which Sara never allowed. Her roommate had limited her to one Great British Bake Off per night when she complained that she was hearing Mary Berry’s voice in her dreams. But, now, it was all Mary Berry all the time. Plus, the BBC _Pride & Prejudice _that she played ad nauseum with multiple rewinds of Colin Firth coming out of the pond. (Sara had actually approved of that part.) And there were other benefits, too. Felicity took her time in the shower in the morning. She completely stopped wearing pants. It was all going swimmingly until there was a mouse in her kitchen cabinet.

“Are you sure it’s a mouse?” Sara asked, clearly not convinced.

“Yes, it’s a mouse! What am I supposed to do?” Felicity said in a panic to Sara over the phone.

“Did you call Larry?” Sara asked, referring to their landlord.

“Yes, but you know Larry is useless! What do I do?”

“You can come here,” Sara offered. 

“I don’t want to just leave it here,” Felicity said.

“What do you think it’s going to do? You know, besides eat through all of our boxed goods?”

“I don’t know,” Felicity said, feeling the panic come on again. “But, I feel better being here. I can keep tabs on it.”

“You do realize you have to sleep at some point, right?” Sara said.

“You are not helping,” Felicity groaned. “It’s fine, maybe Larry will actually do his job once.”

Sara snorted. “Wishful thinking.”

“Well, I don’t have many other options.”

“If you change your mind, you can come here.”

“Thanks,” Felicity said, becoming distracted by a sound in one of the _other_ cabinets. “Oh God, I think there’s more than one.”

Felicity hung up and weighed her relatively small number of option for who to call next before dialing a familiar number. He answered after a few rings, and she said, “Oliver, I need you to come to my apartment. There’s a situation.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but there’s a mouse in my kitchen and I really need you to come over,” she said. 

He paused and asked, “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll head over now,” he said. “I’m guessing you don’t have mousetraps?”

“No,” Felicity said, cringing at the thought. “Isn’t there a less killing way to deal with it?”

“Well, unless you plan to befriend the mouse and have it make you dresses, no. I’ll pick up a few mousetraps on my way over.”

Felicity nodded, more for herself than for him, and when she heard more rustling in the kitchen, she murmured, “Please hurry.”

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Felicity opened it quickly, relieved to see Oliver. She stepped back to let him in, saying, “I’m pretty sure there’s two. Maybe more? I keep hearing rustling. But then, am I actually hearing rustling or am I just _thinking_ that I heard rustling because I’m listening for it, you know?”

Oliver stared at her and asked, “How many cups of coffee have you had today?”

“That seems beyond the point,” Felicity said, blinking rapidly. “And four. I’m a nervous coffee drinker.”

Oliver nodded and walked over to the kitchen, putting the Home Depot bag on the table before pulling out three mousetraps. “We can put some cheese on these to lure it out quicker. I figured with you and Sara, there wouldn’t be a shortage of cheese in your refrigerator.”

“You’re not wrong,” Felicity said, going to the refrigerator and opening up their cheese drawer. “What do you think the mouse would like better, a sharp cheddar, gruyere or manchego?”

“I think it’s a mouse, so it won’t care,” Oliver said.

“Fair point,” she said, opting for the cheddar and quickly chipping off a few pieces from the edge for the traps. They set them up in three different parts of the kitchen, and when they were finished, he said, “Now, we wait.”

“I think this part might be worse than before,” Felicity said.

“Come on, we can wait in the living room,” he said, heading out of the kitchen. When they settled on the couch, he said, “I’m surprised you didn’t call Ray for this.”

Felicity nodded, surprised he hadn't heard about the breakup from Ray over the past two weeks, and said, “Ray and I actually aren’t together anymore.”

“You aren’t? Look, if it has anything to do with you staying at my apartment after the concussion, I can talk to him.”

“It doesn’t,” Felicity said. “But, thank you for that.”

There was a beat of silence and Oliver said, “So, Sara is still staying at Tommy’s place?”

“Yeah, somehow the world’s most dysfunctional relationship became, well, _functional_. I’m happy for them, though. They both really care about each other.”

“I’ve never actually seen Tommy be like that with someone before,” Oliver said. “It’s nice to see.”

“Yeah,” Felicity said softly, wondering how if Sara and Tommy were able to sort out their problems, why they hadn’t. She and Oliver hadn’t discussed whatever was or was not between them since the concussion. She imagined his silence on the subject was because he thought she was with Ray, but it had been a good two weeks now, and for some reason, she hadn’t been able to broach the subject with Oliver. She had thought about it. A lot, actually. At night when she couldn’t fall asleep, she had thought up dozens of scenarios and romantic speeches, some by her and some by him. But, they were just thoughts, stubbornly inactive. Part of her was still guarding herself. She knew if she opened that door and let him in again, there would be no turning back. It would be just as easy for him to leave her again, but he was still the person she called.

“Oliver-“

She was interrupted by the loud clap of one of the mousetraps. Felicity stood quickly, rushing over to the kitchen and stopping short when she saw the trapped, and very much dead, mouse.

“Poor Gus,” she murmured.

“You named the mouse?”

“It was a coping mechanism.”

Oliver smiled slightly and said, “Do you have a shoebox or something?”

Felicity nodded, heading off to her bedroom and returning with an old box from DSW. Oliver crouched down and carefully picked up the trap, placing it in the box. He put on the cover and said, “You’re probably going to want to put this down your trash chute.”

“That feels so cold,” she said. “Like, would you want your life to end with a trip down a trash chute?”

“I can’t say I’ve given that much thought,” Oliver said slowly. “Do you have something else in mind?”

* * *

There was an empty field out back of the apartment, and it was there that Felicity and Oliver stood in front of a bit of freshly turned dirt, and Oliver murmured, “I cannot believe we just gave that mouse a burial.”

“Come on, you have to admit it’s better than a trash chute.”

Oliver shrugged, looking down at her. “If it makes you happy, then I’m happy.”

She gazed up at him, feeling a sort of prickling sensation in her chest, and then she asked, “Oliver, would you like to have dinner with me?”

Felicity could tell that he was surprised, and she watched him visibly collect himself before he said, “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

“Okay,” she said, pressing down a large grin. “Good.”

“I just have one request,” he said. She nodded for him to continue and he said, “Let’s please not eat in your kitchen.”

* * *

They went to a Greek restaurant in town, and while neither specifically addressed everything that had happened, the very act of them being at the dinner together spoke volumes. It was a promise of a new beginning, or as new of one as two people in their position could have. Oliver paid for dinner, and when they left, there wasn’t a question of whether both would be returning to her apartment. She pulled out her keys, suddenly feeling nervous and her hands shook. He was standing close to her, close enough that if she just stepped back her body would be pressed against his. Finally, the key found the hole and she unlocked the door, heading inside. She looked back and he followed, his eyes tracking her movements as she pulled off her coat and tossed her purse on the couch. She walked over to him immediately, reaching up and tugging his face down to hers. He kissed her, but then pulled away, murmuring, “Felicity, wait.”

She looked up at him, suddenly feeling every fear and insecurity light in her belly, but then he took a hold of her face and said, “I love you, Felicity.”

She hadn’t actually thought the words before, but the moment he said them, she knew they were true. “I love you, too.”

He kissed her again, expressing everything he felt and more through the deft movement of his mouth against hers, and they stumbled backward until she was pressed against the wall, his mouth moving down to her neck. Felicity turned her head to the side, eyes drifting shut as she lost herself in the sensation of his mouth moving along her skin. Her eyes fluttered open and she had a clear view into the kitchen. 

“Oh my God,” she gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“What is it?”

“There’s another mouse.”

Oliver groaned, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He looked up at her. “Let me guess, he needs a proper burial, too?”

“I mean…”

* * *

After two mouse burials, Felicity and Oliver performed a thorough cleaning of the kitchen, including emptying the cabinets and throwing away any and all food that could have been explored by the mice. It was nearly midnight by the time they finished and while Felicity had every intention before of starting where they left off, they both were exhausted and without much discussion they went straight to bed, Felicity throwing on one of her normal flannel pajama sets and Oliver climbing into bed in his t-shirt and sweats. Felicity turned off the light and climbed next to him, only half-joking when she said, “You better be here in the morning.”

“I will,” he promised, kissing her shoulder.

And he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think this is it for this story! It seems like the natural place to end it. Thank you so much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed the ending!

**Author's Note:**

> Would anyone want to see more?


End file.
